


I Die Every Day That You're Away From Me

by Loveonawirex3



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x08, Fluff, Gap Filler, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Plot what plot? kind of, Reunion, Smut, i just want happy boys in love okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveonawirex3/pseuds/Loveonawirex3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried his damndest to keep the words in his mouth, but before he could help it they were tumbling out like word vomit and he couldn’t take them back if he tried. All he could do was force his anxiously jumping muscles to hold still, awkwardly looking at the ground. “You coming back?” He didn’t feel adding ‘to me’ on at the end there was really necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Die Every Day That You're Away From Me

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know where this came from. I should be working on like two other fics, but this burst into my head earlier while I was packing and here it is. This song came on and I literally ran to my Surface and spat this out. Unbeta’d, any mistakes are mine (or my Surface’s, this keyboard is real annoying sometimes). I suggest listening to the song “Without You” by My Darkest Days (which I do not own by the way!!!) for the mood of this fic. It was supposed to actually be a dark, angsty oneshot but somehow turned fluffy and smutty and just go with it. Takes place in 4x08. I just wanted some happiness, okay? Hopefully it does them justice.

_If I had my way, I’d spend every day right by your side_  
_And if I could stop time believe me I’d try for you and I_  
_And each moment you’re gone is a moment too long in my life_  
_So stay right here, right now_  
_Because without you I’m a disaster_  
_The moment you go_  
And you’re my ever after  
_Just thought you should know_  
_Cause I need to know your answer_  
_Just say you’ll stay with me_  
_I want you to say you’re gonna stay with me_  
_I die every day that you’re away from me_  
_The thought of you gone, makes everything wrong in my life_  
_So stay right here, right now_  
_My heart breaks with every beat_  
_I can’t explain what you do to me_  
_So just say you’ll promise me please,_  
_Take me if you ever leave_  
_I die every day that you’re away from me_

* * *

Mickey’s heartbeat thudded obnoxiously loud in his ears as he stood before the back door of the Gallagher house. Ian had to be here, had taken all his stuff without even leaving a trace of evidence as to where he’d gone. Mickey didn’t know what he’d do if Gallagher wasn’t here, he supposed he’d just have to track him down again. Which he would do. Figuring he’d cross that bridge if he had to, he pushed the door open and let himself in. He nodded a little bit at Fiona in ways of greeting, closing the door behind him to show her there was no room for argument. “Ian here?”

Fiona looked a little confused, and maybe a like but mollified at his habit of just letting himself into her house looking for her family members. She stared at him in question before she answered. “Yeah, upstairs.”

The dark haired boy took the steps two at a time, viciously fighting off the nervous fluttering of his stomach as relief washed over him that Ian was here and safe. He couldn’t shake the image of the ginger passed out in the snow, couldn’t stop wondering how many fucking creeps had had their hands all over his boy in the past god knows how long Ian had been back in Chicago and not told anyone. Thoughts like that made his stomach churn with jealousy and despair, so he pushed them down as he opened Ian’s door and stepped in. Those green eyes flicked up go him, but quickly lowered back to the book Ian was scribbling in furiously.

“Hey. See you left, took all your shit.” Mickey stated. He kept looking right at Ian’s stupid gorgeous face, a funny feeling growing within him. This was the first time he’d seen Ian, really seen him in months. Ian had been coked out of his mind the night before, so it didn’t count. This, this was his Ian. Although Mickey wished he’d look at him.

“Your bride threatened me with a claw hammer.” Ian informed him casually, still not meeting his eyes and continuing to write on his pages.

Mickey rolled his eyes, about to say something snarky when the door open and his eyes involuntarily saw inside his sockeys again at the sudden interruption and started to remove his outer layers in an attempt to show Ian he was planning on staying right here and he was glad when Ian didn’t protest. He tossed his coat between Ian’s dresser and the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the little happy family reunion. The little sociopath said something about Ian stealing a helicopter, and the dark haired pimp felt something settle uncomfortably in his stomach. That didn’t seem like his Ian.

When the little ones asked why he’d taken off and Ian seemed to consider answering for a moment before stating that it was relationship issues, Lip’s freaky blue eyes flicked towards him and stared unwaveringly with only the slightest bit of question in them. Which meant that fucker knew. Mickey stared him down, surprisingly unbothered by this knowledge and daring the smart ass with his eyes to say a god damn word and holding his ground as if to say ‘yeah, I know he’s talking about me don’t act like you know fuck all what this is about.’

The three Gallagher's he didn’t give two shits about left after another minute, and Mickey found himself leaning back against Ian’s dresser. He tried his damndest to keep the words in his mouth, but before he could help it they were tumbling out like word vomit and he couldn’t take them back if he tried. All he could do was force his anxiously jumping muscles to hold still, awkwardly looking at the ground. “You coming back?”

He didn’t feel adding ‘ _to me_ ’ on at the end there was really necessary.

Ian seemed to relish how uncomfortable Mickey was, and finally locked his gaze with a bit of a sneer on his face. Mickey’s stomach flipped uncomfortably at that, unsure of how to handle this side of Ian. He’d always taken for granted the big doe eyes and puppy dog looks, and knew he’d do fucking anything to get them back and this was the farthest thing possible from them. He knew before Ian even opened his mouth he wasn’t going to like the answer but he _had to know_. Had to know how far gone his boy was from him, had to know what he had to do to fix this because the alternative was just incomprehensible.

“That depends. Will you suck my dick whenever I want?” The cockiness to Ian’s tone made Mickey scoff in disbelief, almost unnerved that Gallagher was being so straight forward and damn near arrogant. His eyes were teasing and expectant, like he already knew the answer to that and was already laughing at Mickey squirming.

Out of habit Mickey made a face and told him to fuck off. Ian shrugged, seeming completely unperturbed by this revelation and continued to write in his notebook. Mickey watched his redhead for a moment, a frown rising as he took in the frantic way Ian was trying to write down everything going on in that head.

And fuck, he was beautiful. He missed him so much it hurt, every second of every day he felt that missing hole in his chest and it was that burning fear of that feeling that spurred him to ask, “Whatcha writing?”

Ian didn’t even peek up, his tone uninterested. “Stuff. Notes, ideas.”

And fuck, he wasn’t going to give him an inch was he? The fucker was getting off on how uncomfortable Mickey was right then, on edge and practically waiting to jump when Ian told him how high. This was apparently what he’d been reduced to, this little shit’s bitch. But god, Ian was here. He was right fucking here in front of him and his fingers were aching with the need to feel that hot flesh, caress every inch of pale freckled skin like he’d never allowed himself to before.

It wasn’t even a question anymore, really. He couldn’t lose this kid again. And so, he’d do whatever it took. He stared at Ian’s face in quiet turmoil, begging silently for those green orbs to lift and meet his so he could try to convey how fucking sorry he was and how desperately he needed him. Ian didn’t look up.

His voice waivered only a little, as he quietly mumbled, “I’ll do it.”

Ian looked up again, all confidence and mocking. “Do what?”

Mickey’s cheek twitched a bit, and he looked to the side and clenched his fists to keep from shifting his weight awkwardly. Ian really wasn’t taking any more of this shit, huh. Whatever. Whatever it took. “Don’t make me say it, asswipe.”

Ian cocked his head a bit, a small disbelieving smile rising on those perfect lips as emerald eyes shone. What Mickey didn’t know, was that Ian was simply testing him. He had to see, had to know how serious Mickey was about this. A small, vindictive part of him wanted to punish him a little but the other, larger part mostly just wanted the reassurance that Mickey truly was in this this time. Ian wouldn’t accept anything happening between them otherwise. “Suck my dick. Whenever I want.”

It wasn’t a question.

Mickey locked their eyes, gauging Ian’s seriousness before looking quickly away in helplessness and dropping to his knees before him. Ian didn’t miss a beat, leaning back and moving his arms out of the way as Mickey’s nervous fingers undid Ian’s belt.

The blue eyed boy had only done this a handful of times before. He wasn’t really against it, just never had gone out of his way to do anything that he didn’t get off on in the long run. His eyes, silently seeking approval, flashed to Ian who looked straight into his eyes in incredulity. Mickey freed Ian’s already hardening dick, staring at it for a moment before swallowing him whole. Ian smiled, head falling back in pleasure and fingers gripping the bed sheets tightly. His whole family basically was home, but Mickey hadn’t even hesitated to suck him off and he was flying on this new found devotion from the dark haired boy.

Mickey glanced up, seeing the smug look on the redhead’s face and his eyes narrowed a bit. ‘ _Alright, fucker. It’s on. Wanna make me beg for you, we’ll see who’s going to be begging._ ’

The older boy gave it all he had, bobbing his head steadily and sliding his tongue up and down the hot flesh pressing against the inside of his mouth. He almost moaned at the familiar scent of Ian engulfing his senses, and felt himself start to harden a little bit when Ian started panting. Eyes narrowing, Mickey gripped Ian’s hips and pulled him down so his back was on the bed, his hips resting on the edge and feet on the floor with Mickey’s strong hands holding them down. He relaxed his throat, fully intent on giving Ian the best blow job of his fucking life. His lips caressed the length gently as he pulled up, leaving only the tip of Ian in his mouth before burying his nose in those fiery pubes he was so glad to see again it hurt. This was okay. He could do this. The talking he wasn’t so good at, but the physical stuff he could do. Could show Ian he cared the only way he really knew how.

His head bobbed in a controlled rhythm, not fast or slow but deep, long sucks and swallows. He felt the thickness stretch the muscles of his throat as he took Ian down as far as he could with every lowering of his head. Ian was writhing a bit, one hand coming to tangle in the longer part of dark hair. He didn’t shove or push or guide in any way, just hung on for dear life as Mickey sucked him with all he had. And Ian would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t clenching painfully inside his chest because god, Mickey was really doing this. And he was really fucking good at it.

Before Ian could think on that too much – which was probably for the best because his balls were tightening at the sight of Mickey Milkovich on his knees for him- Mickey pulled up, tongue swirling around the swollen, throbbing sensitive flesh on the head of Ian’s cock. Ian whined a little, eyes closing and head thrashing back. His long torso arched into the air, trying to shove his hips up and closer to Mickey and his teasing licks.

Mickey was having none of that, pushing those hips back down and flicking his tongue back and forth against the wet tip with even less pressure than before. Ian groaned, jerking up futilely once more as his chest heaved and Mickey realized he was fully hard and straining painfully against his own pants. But this wasn’t about him right now, this was about Ian. Mickey slid his lips up and down the top two or three inches of Ian’s weeping member, tongue tracing that thick vein on the bottom before making gentles circles around the head again. Ian was making deep, guttural noises in the back of his throat and Mickey couldn’t get enough, was grasping those noises and holding them as close to himself as he could. His lips twitched into a smirk around Ian, drinking in the sight of Ian’s bliss like a man denied water for too long. The older boy pulled back fully after a few more teasing, shallow licks. He tucked his lips back, using his teeth to playfully nibble on the sensitive skin before taking him all the way down once more without even flinching.

The sight of Mickey swallowing him like he was made for it was making Ian come undone, and a strangled moan left his bitten lips as a hand came to rub over his own face in frustration and then to clutch at Mickey’s slicked back ebony strands again. Mickey didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back like he once would have. Instantly, instinctively, his free hand rose and slotted his fingers in Ian’s, locking them together and removing them from his hair to pull their intertwined digits into his chest, cherishing the closeness and the _connection_ here that he’d been craving. Ian's green eyes fiercely focus on him, soaking up the look in Mickey’s eyes. _The_ look. That spark of adoration, that little shine that was practically screaming how much he’d been missed to him.

Mickey was drowning in Ian’s intense gaze for a moment, trying to read the exact emotions there and finally seeing something change in the eyes of this boy he’d be lost without. Ian is looking at him like he hung the moon again, like he’s the only thing at all that he sees or ever wants to see and Mickey could sob he was so happy. He lifts his mouth off Ian, ignoring the trail of spit that follows and curls his free hand around Ian’s cock, pumping and twisting it in slow, torturous motions up and down his painful hardness that made Ian shake. Ian couldn’t contain it anymore and nearly cried out when Mickey’s speed picked up, he grunted loudly in pleasure as his head thrashed back against the bed. “Mickey….Mickey, please…”

A smirk rose in satisfaction, hearing the desperate tone to Firecrotch’s breathless pleads and he released the hand holding Ian’s in favor of pushing the dark red shirt up past his pectorals, soaking in every inch of pale flesh that had been unavailable to him for far too long. He wanted to nip and kiss and mark every inch of that flesh, but right now his mouth had a more important priority. The pads of his fingers tingled as they ran over Ian’s abs, caressing the soft skin over hard muscle and greedily sliding across it like he wanted to touch everywhere at once. He kind of did, and fuck he missed this kid so damn much. His roaming hand came to rest over Ian’s ribs, in between them and he rubbed sensuously back and forth there. Mickey’s fingers tightened around Ian, wrist working furiously as his movements became even faster. Ian practically howled, eyes clenching together and back arching into an almost perfect crescent while the hand on his chest quickly rose to clamp over his mouth. The last thing they needed was one of the other Gallagher’s getting curious or worried, and the sounds leaving Ian sounded almost wounded he was so blissed out. Those green orbs disappeared, rolling back into the sockets for a moment before he was kicking at Mickey to get his attention and thrashing his shoulders with a shuddering gasp. “S-Stop! Mickey, stop!”

Mickey resisted at first, loving the way Ian was shattering into little pieces before him and half drunk on the knowledge that he still had the power to turn Ian into a quivering mess but the redhead’s insistent tugs on his hair and shoulders made him pause. His head lifted, eyebrows quirking in silent question.

Ian at up at the waist, puling Mickey upright on his knees instead of slouched over, and into his arms. The younger boy buried his nose in the warm, inviting skin of Mickey’s neck and he just inhales the scent contentedly for a second before biting into the pulse point. Mickey nearly convulsed in pleasure, as that was the first direct intimate touch he’d gotten from Ian in months. He managed to keep it under control enough that it only came out as a slight shudder, and he ignored the stupid gasp that fell from his lips without his permission. Ian’s hands were on his belt, deftly undoing it and dropping the buckle before doing the same to his zipper and button. The jeans slumped, while Ian impatiently pushed the boxers to the floor and Mickey’s hard flesh sprang up, showing just how much he was getting off on these touches and the realization of where this was headed.

Mickey felt like he was going to burst. His insides were squirming and twisting madly within him, that stupid fucking fluttering feeling like retarded butterflies were flapping away in his stomach made him almost want to throw up. But it wasn’t in disgust at himself or what he was, or resentment of his feelings for this beautiful boy in front of him that he’d do absolutely anything for. It wax relief, anxiety and a little bit of fear that if he so much as blinked Ian would disappear. He never wanted to let him out of his sight now that he got him back if he could help it, let alone his life, and he would spend every second with him if he had to to prove that. Whatever it took, he would make sure Ian stayed this time because he couldn’t fucking lose him again. Wouldn’t make it through that agony again. It was completely unfathomable. The mere thought of his made his heart pound painfully in his chest.

His boy curled his hands around Mickey’s waist, manhandling him into a standing position and enveloping him all the way down to the base. Mickey nearly laughed and cried deliriously as his head fell back and tattooed knuckles got lost in fiery red. Where they belonged. He smiled, so fucking happy in this moment. This is all he wanted. All he needed. There was no doubt in his mind that this fucker was everything to him, no question that he was the only one he’d ever want. He’d been so fucking stupid before, denying what they had and trying to keep Ian’s at arms length where he could pretend he had a smidgen of control over what they had. But the fact of the matter was, he was utterly smitten with this kid and that wasn’t going to be held off by anything ever again.

Ian was never getting away from him, ever again.

The redhead’s eagerness made his sucking a bit sloppy, precise and to the point even in his haste and Mickey bit his lower lip to keep from sounding like a wanton idiot. When he felt Ian’s long digits creeping towards his hole, he tensed and pulled away, managing to force out a gruff, “No.”

Looking up in confusion, Ian cocked his head. “No?”

Mickey couldn’t stop the soft smile that infected his face if he wanted to. “Want the first thing in me again to be you, not your fingers.”

The blinding smile he received in return for that made his heart stutter and fucking stop in his chest before it palpitated wildly as Ian pulled him down on the bed next to him. They quickly undressed each other fully, hands lingering, caressing every ounce of precious flesh they could find. Ian clawed at the scar on Mickey’s thigh for a moment, before pressing the smaller boy into his pillows and hitching his legs up around his waist. They’d only fucked face to face a handful of times before, and Ian was buzzing in anticipation already. Especially because, as he positioned himself at the entrance of the boy he couldn’t stop loving despite his damndest efforts, Mickey looked up and right into his fucking soul and clutched onto his shoulders like if he let go Ian would pop out of existence. Ian smiled softly down at him, dipping his head to rub his nose against Mickey’s in a soft sign of affection that would have got him punched previously as he thrust his hip forward and broke past the tight ring of flesh. One of the dark haired boys hands rose to cling to the bottom of Ian’s skull, pressing their foreheads together and arching his hips up into the oh so welcome intrusion. He grit his teeth, pushing past the brief burning sensation that he actually kind of enjoyed and shook in pleasure as being filled again. Feeling he and Ian become one again. In his wildest dreams, he couldn’t have hoped for this little reunion to go this well, especially with Ian’s smug attitude at first.

But this. This was his Firecrotch, this boy that stared at him in wonder as he bottomed out, those long fingers stroking the side of his face adoringly. Ian began thrusting, gentle but deep and Mickey lifted his hips in perfect sync with his lover’s movements. The powerful, suffocating urge to smash Ian into his chest and refuse to ever let go rumble beneath the surface, but he was too afraid to do much right then. To fearful that anything he’d do, any sudden movement would send Ian away again.

Ian’s head dropped weakly to Mickey’s shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the pale skin stretched over his collarbone. His voice was liquid desire and raw emotion when he stuttered out, “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Mickey almost came right then.

The younger boy felt him tense and convulse, reaching between them and grabbing the base of his dick with a smile to stave off the impending orgasm. And it wasn’t the cocky smirks he’d been giving him all night. It was a true, shit eating gigantic Ian Gallagher grin and good thing Ian was still gripping him because he almost exploded all over again, and bit his lip to keep from weeping. Mickey clutched onto him, whimpering a bit and Ian pulled them closer together, nuzzling his cheek and giving him a moment before shifting his hips and moving steadily again.

The air crackled with emotion, months of tension melting away as they clung to each other. Mickeys breath was coming out in little huffs with each thrust, and every inch of his body burned with satisfaction. Nothing could beat this. Nothing could ever even hope to compare to the bliss he felt as Ian moved inside of him, and he never wanted to have anything to even try to compare. His heart clenched a little in despair at the thought of Ian being gone again, his fingers digging into Ian’s broad shoulders. He presses his lips as close to Ian’s ear as it can get, tongue flicking out to lick the shell of it a bit before his words burst desperately out of him because he had to say this, god dammit. He had to, and Ian needed to hear it. If that’s what it was going to take to keep him, so be it. “You…You’re fucking everything. I…” He yelped a little as Ian’s hips stuttered forward as the younger boy lost control at his words, and that gave him the courage to murmur the rest. “I can’t…Can’t breathe when you’re gone…And it was…” He sucked in a breath, eyes crossing as Ian’s monster dick brushed against his prostate and he almost came undone right there but forced the words out determinedly through clenched teeth. “It was complete shit when…” Breathy little moans interrupted his gay little speech, but he pressed on. “When you left and…” His arms tightened around Ian’s shoulders, legs locking around the boys waist and pulling him impossibly closer. “And if you do it again, I’ll fucking kill you and myself, and that’s not a fucking joke, Ian.”

Green orbs widened in surprise, wild lust and something deeper shining back at him as Ian brought his arms up to cradle Mickey’s head as he lost all control and began thrusting into him with complete abandon, lips pressing briefly against his just to see if he could.

“I…I won’t, Mick…Mickey…God, Mickey…” Ian chanted his name, over and over again until his hands tightened on his skull and his long, gangly body was a shivering mess as he exploded inside of Mickey. Mickey groaned, arching up into the urgent thrusts and came untouched all over his own and his lover’s chest, breath catching at the intensity.

Ian slumped on top of him with his face buried in Mickey’s chest, their limbs tangling until they didn’t know where one of them began and the other ended. Mickey sighed contentedly, rubbing his nose through Ian’s hair and wrapping his arms around the sweaty body on top of him. It was quiet for a moment, and Mickey almost didn’t want to break the comfortable silence but he had to make sure Ian had really _heard_ him.

“I meant what I said, Ian."

The redhead’s eyes slipped closed, and he smiled fondly against Mickey’s neck a he pressed a kiss there. “So did I, Mick. So did I."

“Good.” Mickey squirmed, managing to get closer to his boy somehow and he smiled. The first real smile he’d given in months. Because Ian was here, he was surrounding him and clinging to him again and even if they had so much to figure out yet, all was right with the world in this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I just have always felt like more had to happen in that scene than the blowjob, it may be wishful thinking but this is my head canon for how that went. Feedback is so greatly appreciated. Let me know how I did! =] Come find me on tumblr and chat or send some prompts! Loveonawirex3 . Thanks for reading.


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